


Stakeout

by IsabellaJack



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Comedy, Hilarity, Nomad Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Short, Shrunkyclunks, Silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 14:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsabellaJack/pseuds/IsabellaJack
Summary: Sam Wilson sees the offending object and hisses, “Barnes!”“What?” Comes the bored voice of his nightmare of a partner.He tries really not to stomp his way there. After all, they shouldn’t make any loud noises or commotion.He stands before the imbecile.“Why is there a hairdryer in there?”“I don’t understand the question.”Bucky Barnes turns and makes sure he whips his long hair around like he’s in a shampoo commercial.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what this is. All I know is that I'm trying to get back to writing because I've been in some sort of writer's block for a while. I feel like whatever I write is garbage, truly. But with Falcon and Winter Soldier coming up soon (even though there's a chance I won't watch it for reasons) this idea won't leave my head. Also, I want something very short and funny. I hope this brings a smile to your face <3
> 
> All mistakes are mine. Tag will be updated.

Sam Wilson sees the offending object and hisses, “Barnes!”

“What?” Comes the bored voice of his nightmare of a partner. 

He tries really not to stomp his way there. After all, they shouldn’t make any loud noises or commotion. 

He stands before the imbecile. 

“Why is there a  _ hairdryer _ in there?”

“I don’t understand the question.” 

Bucky Barnes turns and makes sure he whips his long hair around like he’s in a shampoo commercial. 

Sam tries his best not to scream into this whole abandoned building.

He walks from around his chair and sits on his haunches, looking daggers up at Bucky who has both legs up on the ledge of the window, binoculars right up against his nose.

“In case you forgot, we’re on a stake-out. We’re practically at the end of the tunnel here.” He points at the window. “We’re finally gonna get that drug ring and I’m not gonna let you  _ fuck _ it up because you have to style your hair.”

Bucky lowers the binoculars and stares down at him in a very condescending manner. Then he blows a bubble with his bubblegum. It gets so big that Sam risks his finger and pops it. 

Bucky doesn’t care and continues to chew the gum.

“Wilson. My dear Wilson. We’ve been here for two weeks. I couldn’t stand my hair looking like it was chewed by a wet dog. And not only a wet one but a rabid one too.”

Sam’s eyebrows almost reach his receding hairline. “The  _ fuck _ is coming out of your mouth, asshole?”

“Relax.” Bucky waves him off. “It’s not like we’re new at this. We always get the job done.”

Sam growls and gets up making sure he’s not right up by the window in case he’s seen as he storms to the other empty room.

“We’re the seasoned due,” Bucky calls after him. 

“We’re the fucked up due, that’s what!”

“My dear W-“

“If you finish that sentence, Barnes…”

Bucky blows another bubble and pokes it with his own finger before going back to surveillance.

**

“Well, this is new,” Sam mutters.

“What is?” Bucky asks as he fills out his crossword puzzle for the day. 

“Jogger.”

"So?"

Sam sighs. "It's just I've never seen anyone jog around here since we camped out here."

Bucky shrugs and continues. "What's a three-letter word for anger? It's on the tip of my tongue..."

Sam rolls his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm never gonna help you with those?"

"You're afraid to admit that you're dumb?"

Sam gives him a flat look and Bucky giggles. 

"This jogger," Bucky says as he walks up to him. "Recognizable?"

Sam shakes his head and offers Bucky the binoculars. “I think he's harmless. But come here and look. Hurry before he turns the corner. He’s stretching right now.”

Bucky looks through them and makes sure he doesn't move too close to the window.

He hums and glues the binoculars to his face Sam is afraid they'll stick.

"What?"

"That is...One. Fine. Specimen." Bucky cannot believe the shirtless jogger nor his sculpted chest. He's wearing grayish sweatpants. He has a cap on and is casting his head down. Too bad, Bucky thinks. He would really like to see what kind of face is attached to that body. 

"Oh, wait..."

"What now?" Sam asks, already irritated.   


Bucky hums. "He has a beard. I'm guessing it's a good one too."

"Give me that," Sam huffs as he snatches the binoculars from him.

Bucky whines. Literally.

"Please let me watch _that_ chest and _those_ pecs and those _thighs_. Please!"

Sam is disgusted. "No, Barnes. I'm positive today our suspects are gonna make a move."

"But I'm in a drought!"

Sam points at him. "I won't let you ruin this mission."

Bucky folds his lips in and takes a deep breath. "Ire."

"What?"

"The three-letter word. For anger. Ire. Which is what is literally surging through my veins right now."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Go wipe your drool, please."

Bucky wipes his imaginary drool with his palm and smushes Sam's face with it.

"Ew! Get your filthy hand away from my face."

"You told me to wipe my drool!"

Bucky walks back to his chair and continues to work on his crossword puzzle leaving Sam grimacing and wiping his face from time to time.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Bucky sighs loudly, hanging his head back when he hears the faint tunes.

“Stop it with that song!”

Sam turns to him from making himself a cup of coffee. “I’m sorry, your highness?”

Bucky puts away the file he’s been reading. “You ruined Earth Wind and Fire for me.”

Sam snorts. “That’s bullshit. Nothing can ruin that band.”

“You are! You’re so pitchy, not to mention you butcher the lyrics every damn time.”

Sam sips his coffee loudly and Bucky wants to tear his hair out.

**

”Your boy is here.”

There’s a slight commotion and Sam rolls his eyes as he hears Bucky stumble his way from the bedroom. 

“Jesus, man,” Sam exclaims as soon he sees the man’s energy. “You were literally a zombie few seconds ago.”

“What? Who the fuck cares about sleep?! Give me!”

And he snatches the binoculars from Sam and tries to spot the dreamy jogger. This time he’s drinking water before taking his cap off.

A soft gasp escapes Bucky when he sees the luscious, golden locks falls almost to the guy’s shoulders. The dreamy jogger pours the rest of water over his head and those delicious locks darken and stick to his forehead and bearded cheeks. 

He’s still shirtless and his skin glistens with the water.

“He’s a sin,” Bucky breathes.

“Pick your jaw off the floor, Barnes.”

Bucky desperately wants to see that face but the guy is frustratingly elusive. He puts back the cap and bends down to fix something with his shoe.

“Look my way, hot shot.”

The dreamy guy obviously doesn’t and then continues jogging away.

Bucky huffs and pout. “I couldn’t see his face.”

“Probably with all the lust clouding your brain.”

Bucky is not gonna let Sam ruin this. “He’s like a hot combination between a marine and a hippie back from Woodstock.”

Sam gets up and takes the binoculars from him. “Go sleep, Barnes. You’re not making sense.”

Bucky smirks. “Sleep. Great idea. Hoping to have dreams of the guy.”

Sam grimaces at him before pushing him towards the bedroom and reclaiming his chair. 

“Wet dreams!” Comes Bucky’s voice all the way from inside the bedroom.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam mutters as he rubs his face.

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Bucky inhales deeply as he enters the sad excuse of a living room. The weather is nice today. Breezy. 

He wants coffee so bad. 

“What the fuck?” Sam’s horrified voice reaches him.

Bucky doesn’t bother to look his way. “What’s wrong now?”

“Why the  _ fuck _ are you naked?”

Bucky turns, mug in hand. “Because I just showered and I’ll kill myself before I use that over-used towel. I need a new one.”

Sam’s eyes are bugged out. It makes Bucky snicker and he tries to hide that behind the mug. 

“Are you serious right now?” Sam almost yells at him. Almost. “That towel is yours. No one uses it but you.”

Bucky shrugs. “Well, it’s not clean anymore. Put on a request for new towels.”

Sam groans when Bucky walks up to take a butter biscuit on the small round wooden table where all their work is laid out. 

“Cover your junk at least, man.” 

“I need to air dry.” 

“At least do that in the bedroom.”

Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine. You’re such a baby.”

“I’m not the one in my birthday suit.”

Bucky goes back to the bedroom but not before saying over his shoulder. “Stop acting like you’ve never seen my junk before.”

“That doesn’t mean I  _ want _ to see it!”

Bucky shakes his head and groans when he looks at the same three outfits he’s been wearing throughout the past weeks.

“I need new clothes too!”

  
**

Bucky is on his shift. Night shift. He always takes it. It starts from 6:00 pm until dawn. It’s what he’s comfortable with. 

He can hear Sam snoring all the way from the bedroom. 

He wants to desperately put on his headphones and blast some music but he has to stay alert. He gets his crossword puzzle out and turns on the mini reading light clip to start working on them. 

It’s only five minutes in that hears a dog bark. 

He freezes. He can’t be imagining this. 

The sound is outside the building and Bucky can’t move until he makes sure it’s real. 

“Come ‘ere. Good boy. Catch!” The faint voice of someone outside reaches him. 

Bucky isn’t sure if that’s a good sign or not. He gets up but not before grabbing his gun and cocking it. He goes around the table on his tiptoes and is so thankful they have no light on. That doesn’t mean he can drape himself over the window sill. But at least it’s better at night to get closer.

In this poor neighborhood, there’s only one working street light. It’s at the end of the street, right on the corner, lighting the building they’ve been surveilling these past weeks.

Bucky gasps lightly when he sees that it’s the dreamy jogger. 

“He has a dog,” he whispers to himself. 

Feeling sudden giddiness, he steps closer to the window to get a better look. 

The guy isn’t wearing a cap this time but he does have sweat pants on matched with a blue hoodie. 

The dreamy guy gets up and throws a ball for his giant golden retriever. 

The dog brings it back and almost topples the guy. A joyous laugh reverberates in the quiet night. It’s so infectious Bucky can’t help but smile. 

He forgets himself for a bit and that’s why he jerks back a second too late when the guy turns to look right in his direction. 

Bucky almost falls on his behind but quickly recovers and plasters himself on the wall next to the window.

“Shit!”


End file.
